A Red and Gold Scarf
by SoraGirl
Summary: Ron forces Hermione to sign a contract agreeing to give up books and studying for the duration of Christmas break. Now Ron has to try and teach his serious friend how to have fun RH with slight GH. R&R please!
1. Contract Killer

Disclaimer: I got a pizza clock for Christmas. I do not own Harry Potter. :P

**A Red and Gold Scarf**

_Part I: Contract Killer_

In. Back. Loop. Threw. Pull. Push. In. Back. Loop. Threw. Pull.

And so her hands went, gaining speed with every stitch, her eyes focused on the red and gold pieces slipping in and out, up and over, the two long silver needles.

They remained quiet, watching while she watched her stitching as if there was nothing more important in the world. Only Harry and those with Muggle parents recognized the soft humming noise escaping from her lips to be an off key version of _Silent Night_. Ron sat impatiently, taping his fingers on the table, trying to keep himself from asking the obvious question.

But as she remained focused on her work instead of on him, he couldn't help himself.

"Bloody hell Hermione," he snorted loudly in the otherwise quiet common room. "I thought you'd given up on all that SPEW nonsense by now!"

Every set of eyes made a quick venture up from what they were doing to Hermione and back down again. It was up to her disposition whether they would have to retreat to their dorms or if they could remain in the commons without being disturbed.

To the room's relief, her brown eyes remained neutral, still following the flow of the strings. "It's not _for_ S.P.E.W, Ronald." Hermione was calm, cool, and in a fairly good mood. It looked like Gryffindor would be spared the Weasley/Granger fight for tonight.

Ron made an extra effort to contort his face in an upset gesture. "Oh," he said, unable to come up with a cleverer response. "Alright then." He turned back around to his essay.

"So, plan to stay here for the holidays?" Harry asked quickly, before his friend had time to conjure up a smart remark.

"Reckon so," Ron said, oblivious of the real reason that Harry had asked him. "What about you 'Mione?"

Hermione hid a grin at her friend's short-term memory. "I suppose I'll be staying as well then. After all, I couldn't leave you two to your own devices."

Both boys smiled. "But we've no mysteries to solve," Harry pointed out.

"Exactly," Hermione smiled, leaning back peacefully into the couch. "I'm looking forward to actually having a _holiday_ this holiday."

Ron smirked. "Yeah right, like you'll spend a day of it without twelve rolls of parchment in front of you."

"I _won't_," she promised cheerfully. "I really want to enjoy Christmas this year."

"Can we hold you to that in court?" Harry asked jokingly. As usual Ron took the joke too far.

"Yeah!" he said, suddenly delighted with the idea. "We should make you sign a _contract_!"

"_Ron_-"

It was Harry, for once.

"My word's not good enough for you?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised playfully.

"No." Ron said bluntly, fumbling through his belongings for a piece of parchment. "It'll have to be a contract. Something to make sure you don't go spoiling our holiday as well-"

Hermione sighed with slight affection, and went back to her knitting.

A few moments later, Ron's shuffling came to a halt. He looked hesitantly at Harry, confirming that all he had in front of him was a large potions book (to appease Hermione) with a smaller book on Quidditch hidden inside it.

"Er- you wouldn't happen to have some spare parchment, would you 'Mione?" Ron asked foolishly.

Hermione emitted an amused snort. "You want _me_ to lend _you_ parchment to make a contract saying I won't do any school work over the holiday, because you can't just take my word for it?"

Ron, unaware of the meaning of a rhetorical question, stared confusedly, "…Yes?"

Harry tried to hide his laughter, to no avail. Hermione used her eyes to let Ron in on the joke.

"Fine then," Ron mumbled, grabbing up his essay and heading upstairs.

Once he was out of sight, Harry turned to his brunette friend.

"Hermione, you know you can go home for the holidays if you want to. We'll be fine."

Last Christmas, when Hermione had attempted to spend the holidays with her own family, the trip had been cut short when Mr. Weasley was nearly killed. It was understandable that she would feel guilty about leaving again.

"It's not that," she said quickly, knowing what Harry was referring to, and preferring not to think about it. "I mean…maybe a bit…but Christmas is for family _and_ friends. Besides, it'll be more fun with the two of you anyway." She smiled warmly.

Harry wasn't convinced. He could never understand why Hermione didn't spend as much time as she could with her family, instead of wasting it with them. Still, when Hermione had her rather large mind set on something, it stayed set, and he knew it would be pointless to pursue the argument any further. Their corner of the common room went silent again, but for the snapping of the wood in the fire and the clicks of Hermione's needles.

"It's done!" Ron exclaimed sometime later, making his way to Hermione's couch so unnoticeably it seemed like he had appeared out of thin air. Hermione yelped and flew backwards in surprise.

She grimaced to see it was just Ron. "_RON_," she said angrily, taking her dropped knitting back into her hands. "You made me lose two stitches!" She examined her work closely and frowned. The loops had completely submerged themselves back into the last row of the thread. There was no way to fix it now.

Ron, ignoring her anger, was still beaming with pride. "Here!" he said, shoving his parchment onto her lap. "The contract!"

She narrowed her eyes and put her needles down to examine what Ron had given her.

"I, Hermione Jane Granger, do hereby forfeit my right to be an overworked know-it-all, a pretentious prat," she stopped. "_Ron_!"

"Oh just go on!" he insisted.

She sighed. "…and a generally annoying individual. By signing this contract, I agree that I will abstain from reading, writing, and any other activity that could be construed as work or education. With the time that I gain from this activity, I will have holiday fun. I will no longer answer questions no one else has the answer to. I will forget about the house elves. I will not use the word the term "_Honestly_." I will do my best to be as un-Hermione-Granger as possible, and instead, act like a normal human being. I agree to these conditions from Wednesday at 5 o'clock until 12 o'clock Christmas day. " Hermione looked up at him. He _had_ to be kidding.

"So, are you going to sign?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Do you realize in the time it took you to write this, you could have completely finished your essay?" Hermione said.

"_Exactly_," he grinned, "You wouldn't want all that time to go to waste, would you?"

Hermione, realizing that because of Ron's stubbornness, any protests would be futile, moved to the table at which Harry was sitting and picked up a quill.

She filled in the space where Ron had crudely and quickly written Xwith her own signature.

The second she had finished, Ron grabbed the paper up from her. He strode victoriously to the notice board and posted the piece of paper up with one fierce stab of the thumbtack.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" he announced over the commons in a boisterous voice. Hermione quickly sunk into the couch, beet red, and Harry laughed near hysterically.

"As of five o'clock tomorrow evening, Hermione Jane Granger is under _contract_, yes, that's right _contract_, to act like a normal human being, to not _touch_ a single book, quill, or parchment, to not make any pretentious comments, to not answer any educational questions, and to have fun in which there is _no_ educational value. The contract will last until 12 o'clock Christmas night. It is up to all of us to keep her on the straight and narrow until then, and if all goes as planned, we might actually end up with a person of a _sensible_ level of intelligence on our hands."

A loud cheering broke out among those in the common room, Lee Jordan let out a large whoop, and the shrunken Hermione became indistinguishable from the crimison couch on which she was hiding.

Ron smiled smugly and sat down on the couch beside her. "Well, that went well."

"You are _not_ getting a Christmas present," she mumbled angrily.

"This _is _my Christmas present," he said, smile still plastered to his face. "And it looks like we're going to have a happy holiday after all."

Sadly, little in the world meant more to Hermione then the written word, and there was her written promise, posted on the common room notice board where anyone could see, and she had no intention of breaking it. Of course, this meant she would have to get all her work done before the break, and she worked furiously for the last few days of the term. But there's only so much one person can do, and as the last day rolled around, she could only write the assignments down dejectedly in her small notebook and wonder how she would ever get them all done.

"That's all," Professor Flitwick smiled, closing the book in front of him.

As the class broke out in cheers, shoving their belongings into overstuffed bags, Hermione scrambled to finish as much schoolwork as she could before the contract began. She was oblivious to her surroundings until her book seemed to close itself and her paper "flew" away.

She looked up desperately to see Ron and Harry holding her things.

"_Harry_?" she asked disappointedly.

Harry shrugged. "You _did _sign the contract."

She grumbled unhappily as she followed them, empty handed, to the dorms.

"This'll be great," Ron guaranteed excitedly as she trudged, arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm sure," she sighed.

They entered the common room to find Ginny standing over a large pile of books and papers.

"I think that's the last of it," she said, brushing her hands off on her skirt, as if the books might have infected her.

"_Ginny_!"

Another apathetic shrug. "You _did_ sign the contract."

"_Really_," she tsked superciliously.

But Hermione, busy making displeased glares at Harry and Ginny, failed to notice as Ron shoved her belongings into a large metal box.

"_Securate_," he said, calmly, and tapped the box with his wand, like some sort of magicians parlor trick.

"Now, that's just cruel," Lee Jordan noted from a nearby chair, shaking his head slightly. "Like taking a fish out of water all at once, without even giving it time to adjust."

"This is different," Ron protested, "Water is good for fish. Books are bad for people, makes them haughty know-it-all's and such."

Hermione let out a "hmph" but could manage no more of a protest, after witnessing her prized possessions being locked away.

"It's for the best," Ron guaranteed. "And you can have them back right after the holiday. 'Course, by that time you'll have had so much fun, you won't _want_ them back."

Hermione smiled, though skeptical, "I'm sure." This holiday would certainly be interesting.

Author's Notes: Exciting! ;P So ends part I of this four part Christmas fic. Parts 2-4 are written, but not edited, and should be up relatively soon…of course, reviews would get them up faster O:-). I hope you liked it, or didn't hate it beyond all reckoning! :D My first HP fic since the summer :O Although I appreciate constructive criticism, please keep it story/writing style oriented. I'm well aware that my grammar is atrocious ;P

Reviewers, of all kinds,are sprinkled with holiday joy, and also candy! :D!

Flamers are fed to the monkeys :(

Happy holidays, best wishes, warmest regards, and lots of love,

Soragirl

JULY 16!!! W00T!

Oh! On a related note! Everyone who hasn't already done so, should go to and click on the paper clips (FAQ), then click on the envelope that reads "About the Books", then on "FAQ POLL" and vote for "Will Ron ever be anything more then good friends with a girl?" We must know! :D Obviously, the question of the importance of Neville in the prophecy is VERY important, and probably what we all really want to know, but because it's so important, she won't be able to answer it straight out. She'll only be able to say "Yes! It is important!" or "No, you people read too closely into things" Remember Mark Evans, people! ;) So anyway, vote for "Will Ron ever be anything more then good friends with a girl!" We could very well get a straight answer once and for all! :D

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review, and make one's day."


	2. Battles And Breakfast

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing :(

**A Red And Gold Scarf**

_Battles And Breakfast_

The first day of break seemed to follow the same pattern as italways had. The Gryffindor dorms were near barren and at seven o'clock in the morning, there sat only one girl in the common room.

Hermione Granger.

But, this year, something was different. Instead of the usual array of parchments and ancient texts, all that sat in front of her were two long needles, one red and one gold ball of yawn, and a slowly emerging…something.

"Good to see you're up already!" Ron greeted cheerfully, coming down the stairs in his ratty pajamas.

Hermione blushed slightly without realizing it. She assumed if they weren't as close as they were, seeing each other in pajamas could potentially be very embarrassing. However, she had no complaints. In all honesty, she found his tearing plaid pants and small, stripped t-shirt to be quiet endearing.

"Want some breakfast then?" he asked with a yawn, plopping down lazily beside her.

"Where's Harry?" she asked. It was unusual to see the two of them apart.

Ron hid a frown, feeling rejected. "Still sleeping, I can wake him, if you'd like."

"Oh…no," she said, noticing the boy's disappointed tone. "I suppose I could go for breakfast."

"Alright," Ron grinned, grabbing the maroon sweater he had left on the chair the night before. "Let's go."

"You're going in _that_?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Hermione, it's 7 in the morning, on the first day of our winter holiday. We're the _only_ ones up."

She grinned, packing her knitting supplies into a bag, and lifting it over her shoulder. "So, why are you up this early?"

He fidgeted nervously in an attempt to cover his blush. "No reason, really."

She nodded uneasily, her mind blank as to what else she could ask. She hated awkward silences.

"No skiing this year?" he contributed.

"No."

"Disappointed?"

"Can't say that I am."

"Miss your family?"

"A bit."

"So why stay here?"

"You and Harry are my family too."

"Hermione. If it's about last Christmas-"

"It's not."

"I don't believe you."

"I suppose that's your lost then. Toast?"

"No thanks. Nice, isn't it? Quiet."

"Yes. Too bad the house elves can't enjoy-"

The conversation stopped abruptly.

"_The contract_."

Hermione stifled a groan. "A contract can't hinder belief in _basic _human rights, _Ronald_."

"_Human_ rights?"

"Don't give me that," Hermione rebutted, "You know what I meant. It's a basic regard of human decan- _Ron_! Could you at least _pretend _to pay attention?"

"Ifhm afm pafhying atmfenftion!" Ron said, attempting to speak through the great deal of food he had been stuffing in his mouth. He made a sincere effort to swallow it all. "I just don't understand why you have to be so….why you've got to care so much about _everyone_ else."

Hermione blushed, finding the "insult" to be quite complementary. "You care about other people too."

Ron shook his head, tearing into another bit of biscuit. "Not like you. I only care about…well, the people that I _care_ about."

"Well, it's the same with me."

"You have a personal relation with _every_ house elf then?"

She thought about this for a second, and resisted the urge to make an elongated speech on the fact that human _and_ magical creatures rights should be a cause that everyone belongs to. But, she had made the speech a hundred times before and gotten nowhere, and really didn't feel like starting another argument with her friend.

"I suppose girls are just more sensitive."

This seemed to satisfy him, as he took a large swig of whatever he was drinking.

"All finished?"

Hermione looked at the plate she had barely touched, and nodded, deciding she would just eat a big lunch.

When they arrived in the dormitory Harry was just coming down the stairs.

"Where have you two been?" he asked suspiciously.

"Breakfast," was the unanimous declaration.

Harry looked slightly disappointed and Hermione wondered what response he would have preferred.

"I suppose I'll have to eat by myself then?" he asked, showing the _real_ reason for his displeasure.

Ron looked thoughtful. "Well, I suppose I could go with you…but…someone's going to watch _her_," he jerked his thumb in Hermione's direction.

She rolled her eyes. "Your distrust is completely unwarranted."

"Oh?" Ron said. "Let's not forget _Krum_."

Automatically, Harry sent a threatening look. Conversations about Krum between Hermione and Ron _always_ ended up in disaster.

"What _about_ him?" Hermione sneered. She had turned harshly to Ron and placed her hand on an out-jutted hip. Like a cat flexing it's claws; it was a tell-tale warning of a brawl to come.

"What _about_ him?!" Ron repeated with a laugh, as he often did when he started an argument with no factual basis. "Well, _obviously_, we couldn't trust you about _that_."

He finished proudly, feeling he had somehow validated his argument.

"I never _lied_ about Krum. And besides, it wasn't any of _your _business to begin with."

"So…what about that breakfast?" Harry attempted with a weak laugh.

"Wasn't any of my _BUSINESS_?" Ron repeated, _again_. "He was Harry's _competition_! You were _dating_ someone that we thought, at the time, might have had it out for Harry! I'm fairly certain you can consider _that_ untrustworthy!"

Hermione seemed to be trying to hold back a scream.

"What _is _it with you?! First of all, _Viktor_, never 'had it out' for Harry, and you _know_ it. Secondly, _Fleur_ was Harry's competition as well, and you would have had no problem dating her, _if_ she had actually given you the time of day!"

Harry shook his head. Though Hermione was right, and had presented a perfectly logical argument, logic served only to further upset an angry Ron. It was like, as Hermione put it, "presenting a complicated math problem to a very large ape."

"What are you trying to say?" Ron bit furiously. "That I-"

"Guys…" Harry tried.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm saying," Hermione said. Her eyes were narrowed; her voice was cold.

"Oh is _that_ it then?" Ron burst out. "Think I'm jealous because you hooked Krum, and Fleur could care less about me?"

"_Yes_ Ron," Hermione snorted in exasperation and sarcasm. "_That's_ it."

"Well that's rubbish!" he yelled. "That's not it at all!"

"Then what _is _it?"

Ron's already red face seemed to swell. "No-nothing…I just…you must of put a spell on him or something! I mean, why would he want _you_, a stuffy, stuck-up, bushy haired, know-it-all, bookworm, when he could have any other girl in the whole school!?"

Halfway threw his speech, tears had started streaming down Hermione's cheeks. "How _dare _you, how _DARE_ you! And if Krum didn't want a stuck up know-it-all with bushy hair, then who were _you_ fooling to think _anyone _would want a _wretched_, immature, destitute, gangly, freckly, redheaded _mess _who has to leech off his best friends fame to feel better about his boring self!"

"Take that back," Ron growled lowly, clenching his fists.

"_No_," Hermione spit.

"This has really gone far enough." Harry started, but it was too late, Ron had, in an act of protest, thrown all of Hermione's knitting off of the table, and stormed out the door.

Hermione dropped to the ground, fumbling to pick up her knitting, and began crying lightly.

Harry, wishing that _one _of them had listened to him, attempted to console her. "Hermione…you know how he gets."

She nodded, still sniffling back tears. She looked at herknitting, where Ron had caused her work to come undone.

She shuffled the fabric back into her bag, and lifted herself up from the ground. She smiled slightly, although still crying. "I think I need some time alone."

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Harry nodded, and went on his way. After all, he never quite learned how to handle crying girls.

Author's Note: My apologies for the short chapter, chapters 3 and 4 are longer. A _**million**_ thanks for the reviews, you bring joy to my depressing little life ;D I LOVE YOU!Another apology for taking so long to get this chapter up, but FFN was down all Thursday nightand last night I was out partyin' ;D

Next chapter should be up very soon! REVIEWS ARE LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL! :D

Reviewers are given eternal hugs! Thank yooou all those who reviewed!

Best wishes and warmest regards,

Soragirl

"Have you hugged an author today, write a review and make ones day!"

P.S. Yes! You guys have made my whole WEEK!


	3. The Learning Curve

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

Author's Notes: ::eyes brim with tears:: You guys have been so kind, I can not even explain. You have made my day, my week, my year! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! You're the best!

**A Red And Gold Scarf**

_Part III: The Learning Curve_

There's nothing like being called a "a stuffy, stuck-up, bushy haired, know-it-all, bookworm" to dampen your Christmas holiday, and Hermione's was already sufficiently wet. She spent a good bit more time crying before she could convince herself that Ron hadn't meant what he said (or at least not all of it). Still, it took a review of every good thinghe had ever done for her before she could start breathing normally once again.

Though the constant weaving in and out left her hands aching, knitting allowed her mind to wander and could sufficiently calm her down. She had added a distance between the most recent hole and her working point. Her tiny fingers slid up and down, weaved and wound, before a quiet clearing of the throat interrupted her.

There was Ron, looking down shamefully at his shoes and holding two large cups.

"Uh…I'm…really sorry 'Mione. I don't…I didn't mean it…"

Hermione smiled. "I'm sorry too. We really do need to start working on getting along."

Ron took this as a sign that he could proceed without being brutally attacked. He sat down next to her on the usual couch and handed Hermione a steaming mug. She looked down suspiciously at the brown liquid and took a sip.

"Hot chocolate?" That was something she hadn't tasted in awhile, and certainly not this rich. She frowned. "From the house elves?"

"No, made it myself," he guaranteed, thoroughly pleased by the sweet liquid. "Harry mentioned that Muggles drink it during the holidays."

"What's in it?" she asked, not sure whether she was enjoying the bittersweet beverage.

Ron grimaced, feeling he hadn't followed "the recipe" exactly, and took another sip. "Just melted chocolate at first, but it wouldn't come out of the cup, so I _had_ to add some milk."

Hermione grinned; Harry should have specified what he meant by "hot chocolate." "It's great," she assured him. After all, it was the thought that counted. She took another sip and let the warmth of it slide down.

"About what I said…" Ron started.

"It…" Hermione searched. She shook her. "I acted just as poorly."

"It doesn't matter…I should have never…I don't think that your any of that, Hermione. I mean…sure, you like books and all, but that's not a bad thing. And well, just, I think… Krum had the right idea…and I shouldn't have be angry…just because he was the first one to notice it," Ron said firmly.

"Thanks," she blushed, a little too stunned at Ron's response to comeup with a decent one of her own."I think Fleur was a fool…and I certainly did mean a word of what I said. I was just trying to say what I thought would make you angriest," she admitted.

Ron's eyes shifted, feeling awkward about the apologies, and he caught sight of Hermione's knitting.

"Did I…?" he asked guiltily, looking at the most recent hole.

She laughed. "Don't worry about it. I just wish I knew how to fix it. I keep losing stitches."

"Is it difficult?" Ron asked. He had already gulped down all of his hot chocolate and placed the mug on a nearby table.

"_I_ don't think so. It hurts your hand a bit, and it takes some patience…but it's nice…to work on something long enough and patiently enough that once you're finished, you're proud that it's yours," she ended feeling a little foolish.

Ron nodded with surprising apprehension. "Could you show me how?"

"You want to learn to knit?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

She smiled lightly and gave a slight nod. "Alright." She handed him the two needles. "Well," she thought aloud. In all honesty, she wasn't sure _how_ to teach someone to knit. Her grandmother had first taught her by standing behind her, guiding her hands into the correct motions, but she was determine to teach Ron without any awkward contact. "First you cross the right needle with the left." Ron clumsily moved the needles into the wrong formation.

"No," Hermione laughed. "_Other_ left."

"Like this?" he asked. She wasn't sure how he had created _that_ position.

"No, not at all like that," she admitted. "You've got to go in like this, and then out like this-" she was trying to demonstrate with her hands and nonexistent needles.

Ron, looking utterly confused, twisted the needles around hopelessly, losing stitches as he went.

If there was one thing Hermione couldn't stand, it was seeing something being done wrong. Disregarding her earlier resolutions, she wrapped her arms around him, putting her hands on his.

"Like _this_. In. Back. Loop. Threw. Pull. Push. In. Back. Loop. Threw. Pull," she mumbled to him quietly, guiding his hands gently in and out.

Ron, bright red and trying not to show it, began to relax as their hands developed a slow rhythm.

Hermione waited until she felt his hand moving with hers, and a few moments beyond that, before lettting go. "I think you've got it now," she told him softly, feeling slightly embarrassed, and started to move her hands away. Ron stopped her, squeezing them tightly with his own.

"'Mione…" he started, but couldn't seem to get any farther.

Hermione waited anxiously, her brown eyes locked on his blue, silently trying to urge him to finish.

"Are we…interrupting something?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

Automatically, the two dropped their hands.

"I was teaching your brother how to knit," Hermione said, recovering quickly.

"Uh huh," she smiled. "I'm sure."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ron asked, uneasily handing the knitting back to Hermione.

"Came to ask you if you were up for some Quidditch," Harry said, itching the back of his head.

"Sure, I mean…" he looked at Hermione, realizing Quidditch was not her favorite pastime.

"I could use some fresh air," she admitted, gathering her things. Harry shrugged to Ron as Ginny elbowed Hermione, giggling hysterically, and the four friends walked out the door.

-

"IT'S SNOWING!" They were the first words out of his mouth.

"Ron-" but it was too late, he had grabbed Hermione by the hand and was dragging her out the door.

"RON! Stop! What are you doing?! We're in our pajamas!"

"You've got slippers!" he said, as if that made all the difference.

"No! I don't want to! _Ron!_" Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the laughter associated with the absurdity of being dragged from your common room at 7 in the morning, in your pajamas, by a tall redhead, tosee the snow. Quickly, she grabbed up both of their jackets, which had been left on a large chair the night before.

Moments later, they were standing in the middle of a winter wonderland. Ron stood looking satisfied, as the snow continued to fall down.

"Ron?" Hermione questioned quietly. "You know, I've seen snow before. Was there a reason you couldn't wait till I got dressed?"

"It's part of your rehabilitation therapy," he said. "I'm trying to show you there are better things in the world then books and papers."

Hermione looked out on the silence before her and couldn't find an argument.

Ron dropped down happily, laying straight out, arms held out above him. Hermione laughed, tucking her jacket under her before sitting cross-legged beside him.

"_Hermione_," he groaned, sitting up to look at her, his bare hands grasping the snow. "Why can't you learn?"

"I thought I wasn't _allowed_ to learn," she pointed out.

"You've _got_ to learn how to have _fun_." With that, he threw the snow he had been scooping onto her and stumbled away.

"RONALD!" she screeched, as his laughter continued from the distance. "RON!" She attempted to brush it off, but that made the snow melt, and the cold water seep into her light pajamas.

Now, she was up and running. Ron Weasley would pay.

"Aw, 'Mione, it was just a little snow," he attempted sweetly.

"A _little_ snow? A _little_ snow?" She squeaked through snow covered hair.

Ron eyed the large chunk ofthe white stuffin her hand. "Come on Hermione, I'm in my pajamas!"

"_You're_ in _your _pajamas? Let's recall who dragged _who _out here, Mr.Weasley!"

Any argument he was considering was knocked out of his head by an oncoming snowball.

He looked up to see Hermione laughing hysterically.

He grinned. "Alright then, Ms. Granger. This means war."

-

"TRUCE!" Ron yelled through staggered, laughing breaths. "Truce!"

Hermione was only too glad to oblige; she feel down against a tree and tried to regain her breath.

Ron stumbled over to her and sat down as well.

"You were right, that was fun," she laughed, pushing her soaking hair from her face.

"Don't they have snow in the Muggle world?" Ron asked.

"Of course," she scoffed. "Just…I'd never really 'played' in it before."

"Well, you did bloody well for a beginner," Ron grimaced, slicking back his own drenched hair.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks…for doing this I mean." Her teeth chattered slightly at the end of the sentence, as a cold breeze blew through. She rubbed her frostbitten hands together for warmth.

"You're cold?' Ron asked with sincere concern.

"Just a bit," she lied. She was freezing.

Ron paused for a second. Hermione felt a soft pressure on her shoulders.

She looked up curiously to find that Ron had wrapped his arms around her.

"Uh…just to keep warm…" he fumbled, taking her hands in his. She smiled.

Physically, Ron was possibly the least likely being to keep anyone warm. He was tall, skinny, and at the time, soaking wet. Still, Hermione found herself unexplainably warmer with his arms around her.

Of course, it was _very_ cold, and it was only a matter of time before the winter air had sucked up any warmth they had preserved.

"Ron," Hermione spoke up sadly. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying herself...but she could no longer feel her face.

"Reckon we should head in?"

She nodded. Awkwardly and blushing, he slipped his arms away, and stood up.

Silently and regretfully, they headed back inside.

:O! To be continued! ;)Once again,thank you IMMENSELY for the reviews! They mean the world to me :D I love you! On a slightly sadder note, there's a chance the next chapter will take longer to get up, since school has once again returned, but it won't be too long, promise! :D

Back to math homework ;)

Love, warmest regards, and best wishes,

Soragirl

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make one's day!"


	4. Perfect Things

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Man, I wish I had money :P

Author's Notes: See bottom.

**A Red and Gold Scarf**

_Part IV: Perfect Things_

The rest of the week was filled with snow fights, shopping, conversations, and hot chocolate (and not a single book, Ron might add). The two spent what Ginny considered an "ungodly" amount of time together. When questioned, Ron would always claim that he had to keep her in his sights to make sure she didn't abuse the contract, but no one, including him, really believed that. It was Christmas Eve before either of them realized that the contract was about to expire.

They had just gotten back from Hogsmeade together and Ron had gone to the notice board to see if Harry or Ginny had left them a note. He affectionately looked over the contract that had brought him one of the best weeks of his life. Hermione had already sat down at her usual place by the fire and was knitting. Her scarf, which it now clearly was, was nearing completion.

"Did they say where they've gone?" Hermione asked as he rounded the corner of her couch.

"No, no note."

"Awfully suspicious, isn't it?" Hermione teased.

"What do you mean?" Ron could make a guess as to where she was going with this, and he didn't like it.

"_Nothing_," she chimed innocently.

"'Oy, Hermione, please…they wouldn't…" The truth was, he wasn't sure if they would or not.

She shrugged mischievously. "Well, they _have _been spending a lot of time together lately."

"Well, so have we." He meant it to be proof that Ginny and Harry weren't secretly having some torrid love affair…but it ended up sounding a lot more like a pickup line.

"Well, it's getting late, isn't it?" Hermione asked nervously.

Ron nodded, standing up as she did the same.

"You know 'Mione…tomorrow's the last day of our contract."

"Oh?" she said. "Barely seemed like a week."

"Shame it's over…it was nice seeing you without a book every now and then," he laughed.

"Well, it was nice being bookless."

"I should have trusted you, Hermione," he admitted. "You did really well this week. Congratulations." Without another word, he had learned down to her, placing his arms on her shoulder, and kissed her softly on the lips. He pulled back like it was nothing at all, and gave a slight smile, as if it was as normal an expression as a pat on the back. And as he turned for his dormitory, she had no choice but to do the same.

The next day, Christmas day, went off without a hitch. Neither Hermione or Ron brought up the kiss. It began to seem as if it really _was_ meaningless, as insignificant as a congratulatory hug. That day, Hermione binded off her gold and red scarf. It had ended up as unattractive as she expected, getting larger and smaller, with holes, and stains where Ron had spilled his hot chocolate. Yet, somehow, as physically repulsive as it was, the scarf had another, unexplainable kind of beauty to it. It was her scarf; she had put herself into it, and all its holes and imperfections, just made it that much more unique.

She wrapped it in a shinning green paper and placed it on a table in the common room, since they lacked a tree. She finished all this by dinner and followed Ginny and Harry down to what was, unarguably, the greatest meal of the year.

She saved a seat for Ron beside her, although it wasn't necessary, only 8 other students remained. Dumbledore finished the usual speech, but Ron had not yet appeared. Ginny and Harry had already dug in.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked. It wasn't like him to miss out on food, especially not a Hogwarts Christmas dinner.

"Nothing!" Ginny chimed in from amidst a pile of pumpkin pudding. "I mean…nowhere, probably just resting. He did eat a big lunch."

Hermione raised an inquisitively eyebrow, but Ginny responded with the smile of an angel.

"He's a good guy, Ron, isn't he? Don't you think?" Ginny asked. Harry let out a squeak, and rubbed his leg from beneath the table.

"Yeah," he said. "Great guy, definitely."

"Wouldn't you say so Hermione?" Ginny asked again, anxiously.

"I suppose so," she responded suspiciously.

"He can be a bit of a git though…but that's just because he's really very protective of the people he _loves_," the redhead pointed out.

"Ginny, what are you talking about?" Hermione stabbed at piece of turkey, worried about her friend's welfare, and fairly fed up.

"Nothing!" she squealed innocently. "Just, you know, you two fight a lot, but that doesn't mean you don't care about each other……right?"

"…Right…?" Hermione said.

"Great!" Ginny smiled. "Well, Harry and I've got to…go…check out some library books…" Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by another foot in the shin. "You know, should really head up to bed Hermione, it's getting late! Have a happy Christmas!" There was an unmistakable grin on the youngest Weasely's face as she grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him away. Hermione decided to take Ginny's advice.

She walked with admitted disappointment to the Gryffindor tower. She hoped to find Ron there, and tell him of his sister's quick exit from the table. She was doubtful that Ginny and Harry were truly planning to 'check out books from the library, unless that's what the kids were calling it these days. She thought this over and decided it would be best to keep silent. No need to have Ron threatening Harry's life, at least not on Christmas.

Hermione was let down to find the Gryffindor tower empty and dark, the usual crackling fire was lacking so much as an ember. She let out a low sigh, and suddenly, the room filled with light.

Her jaw dropped, her eyes widen, but she still couldn't take it all in. The common room glittered and gleamed, sparkled and shimmered. There was lights, holly, ornaments, a tree. It was beautiful.

In an instant, her mind raced back to the conversation at the Three Broomsticks, as the two sat, peeling off their layers over a glass of Butterbeer.

"What's a Muggle Christmas like? A lot different?" Ron asked curiously. The two had been talking about the differences in their worlds, each one taking great amusement in how little the other really knew and great pleasure in learning more.

"They're very similar, really. Muggles…they try to make things seem more magical. They string up lights, shinning red and green, there's ornaments, and Christmas trees, and mistletoe…" She blushed slightly and decided she could have left that part out.

"Well, we've got mistletoe, and trees, and decorations," Ron pointed out. He wasn't finding the idea of a Muggle Christmas very thrilling.

"Well, yes," she sighed. "It _is_ very similar…but it's different. Instead of magic they use, well, electricity…and paint….and wires…" She stopped, realizing what she was saying. "I guess it isn't very exciting, is it? It's just…" she tried to think of the world. "It's nice…it's…_home_."

Ron nodded as if he fully understood. At the time, she thought it had been an obligatory nod, and that he really thought she was quite loony. It was clear now that he had understood exactly what she meant.

"Ron," she whispered, as tears begin forming in her eyes.

The lanky redhead appeared from behind the tree. He looked uneasily at his own work, and then at her. He walked to where she was standing, frozen. He was breathing heavily, but it was clear he had some initiative, some plan of action in mind.

"Do yo…do you like it?" he asked fearfully.

She nodded enthusiastically, still trying to hold back tears. She grabbed her package from the table, and held it out to him.

"I…" she fumbled. "It's not much…I didn't…well…" Two more nervous teenagers had never existed.

Ron's awkward hands tore through the green wrapping paper, to reveal the red and gold scarf underneath. He ran his hand over it, feeling Hermione's diligence and effort in every stitch. He saw the holes he had made, the tears he had caused, the stains he had spilled. For two weeks, Hermione had never put this scarf down, and now, she was giving it to him.

"I know it's not very good, but I wasn't sure how to…fix it…and-"

"It's great," he interrupted. "But are you sure you want to give it to me? I mean, you've worked so long on it…"

"I'm sure. It was always for you," she admitted, blushing, turning the scarf over to show him a spot where the gold and red weaved in and out in a broken pattern that looked almost like an 8. "That was supposed to be a R."

"I'm sorry Ron," she said tearfully, looking at the common room. "It doesn't compare to this. This…it's…the best gift I've ever gotten."

He shook his head. "No….it's perfect…I mean, it's not perfect…but that's what's so perfect about it…the best things in life have some holes…but, you just have to work on them…Hermione, I did this because…because…I wanted you to like it…and you said it was like home and…I wanted to tell you that…I wanted to tell you…" He stopped, fearing his heart was beating so hard it might break through his chest.

Hermione looked up at him, innocently, hopefully, patiently, and he knew he would never get the words out. His hand shook as he tucked a strand her hair behind her ear, and lifted her face toward him.

He moved forward slightly, and stopped, before quickly convincing himself to proceed. The moment his lips touched hers, he knew he'd made the right decision. His timidity dissolved as he felt her kissing back. He wrapped his arms around her, unable to imagine having ever felt this wonderful. Good things can't last forever though, and Ron pulled back, feeling wetness on his cheeks.

It was Hermione; she had broken into tears.

"Hermione-I- what's wrong?" he asked frantically, terrified he had done something wrong. "Should I not have…I didn't-"

She shook her head, wiping away her tears. She laughed. "No Ron, it's good crying…I…I liked it…"

"I liked it too," he stumbled. "I've been meaning to do it for a while now, but I wasn't sure if you…well, _wanted_ to."

" I did," she blushed. " I mean…Ron…I-" she tried, but she couldn't find the words either.

"Me too," he said, shyly stroking her hair. " Ever since third year."

She smiled, and Ron felt confident enough to let out the joke that had been waiting. "What kind of girl cries when you kiss her anyway?"

"In this case," she smiled. "The happy kind."

She drew him into another kiss.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," she whispered, squeezing him as if he was the only good thing left on earth.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione."

And it was.

_Fin_.

**Author's notes:** Apologies all, for taking SO long to get this last chapter up :( Two words, my friends: Exam week. O.O I wasn't really satisfied with this chapter, and had been intending to rewrite it completely. However, I realized it would be another two months before I had time to rewrite it, so I decided it would be best just to slap this puppy up,as to not keep anyone waiting. This way, I can rewrite it as soon as I get a chance, without feeling guilty about not having posted the ending. Thus, you have my solemn promise that you will get a better, more thought out ending….it'll just take a while :D Now that I'm done apologizing, it is time to start thanking! THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! You are the beacons of light on my dark, miserable days and the only reason this fic was able to be written. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! I appreciate everything, from the constructive criticism, to the encouragement. I can not possibly thank you enough. Know that you have made a sad little exam-filled girl, very VERY happy! THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU! Also, the whole time I had been intending for the scarf to be symbolic of the R/Hr relationship. I hope that came across!

Best wishes and lots of love:D

Soragirl

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make one's day :)"


End file.
